To Know Nothing
by fascimility
Summary: [Akihika] I tried to be subtle, but it got rather hinty in the end. Fluffy, pointless... fluff. 3rd chapter up, Shindou goes to the airport to pick Touya up... :) Please read and review!
1. To Know Nothing

Disclaimer: I don't own Hikaru No Go, it's as simple as that. (Although I would really, really want to!)  
  
Author's notes:  
  
My sincere thanks to DarkCyradis and all the other reviewers for the critique! :) I've tried to correct the mistakes. if there's any other errors please tell me. And, this was done without the knowledge of my great beta-reader, Ianthem, so any mistakes are my fault. My apologies if if didn't make it clear the last time that this was from Hikaru's point of view.  
  
This fic came about as I was doing my literature paper so if it's depressing and rushed, please be easy on me. (lousy excuse, yes I know) Flames are welcome (they keep me realistic) and reviews are appreciated. Thank you for reading!  
  
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~~To Know Nothing~~  
  
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"I have nothing." I say it out loud, without registering its meaning, just another phrase to appease you.  
  
Yet I can feel your anger rising, bitter as bile, as it threatens to overflow. You narrow your eyes dangerously, the glistening orbs iridescent. I am prepared for this, your rage, your unrelenting shouting as the other customers scurry by.  
  
You don't seem to care, and neither do I. Because I know what will happen, and the crackle of electricity begins to unleash, making every fibre in my body begin to tremble. I shove my chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor, slamming my fists down on the board. The stones rattle, clattering against each other as the formation crumbles.  
  
The anger sparks up in your eyes, burning spheres of molten emerald. Your fingers dance over the board, gently shifting the stones into place. You are angry, furious at my disrespect for the game, our game.  
  
I watch your progress, each slender finger flitting from group to group. I marvel at your memory, your ability to recall each position as perfectly as it was just played. I continue watching, arms folded defiantly over my chest.  
  
People say we fight because we are opposites, like the two ends of the spectrum that will never meet. That we always rub one another the wrong way, sparks flying as the argument continues. But we know better.  
  
Opposite poles attract, like poles repel. I can see myself in you, my every emotion reflected upon your face. Perhaps you just don't realize it, but you see through me crystal clear, nothing hidden from your probing eyes My defenses break down, my impenetrable mask in ruins; after all, how can you lie to a mirror?  
  
My pretenses stripped bare before you, my every thought going through your head. Likewise with your thoughts. It's come to a point where I venture to guess you, to read you, to see past your emotionless face to understand you. You are like a poem, ambivalent, yet disconcertingly beautiful amongst your power.  
  
I think I almost know you now, how your thoughts work, how all your feelings are concealed and buried. Yet I alone can unlock them and stoke the flame of your anger to a raging inferno. I know how to calm the storm after the violent tempest. I'm as close to knowing you as I can ever get. I think.  
  
I am gripped by the shoulders now, strong hands forcing me back against the wall. This is new. Yet I respond as I usually do, raising my voice with a barely concealed excitement. I play Go the same way. I keep to my plans and go ahead if I know they work, never thrown of by an opponent's unorthodox move.  
  
It is the same here. You're changing the routine, playing a different hand as you become more violent. Not just shouting anymore, not just content with heated words yelled across the room. Well.  
  
Of course I have no objections. I want to make you angry; I strive to make you enraged. It thrills me as much as playing with you. Just the knowledge of knowing I can ignite your temper and make it fly. That is enough. I love the way you are angry, the way you argue and shout and holler. I love your anger as it is, raw, unadulterated and untamed. I confess I start arguments on purpose, just to see you. Sounds stupid, does it not?  
  
But it's true. I'm so enthralled by you, by your mere presence. I just need you to be around. I even meet for you under the pretense of playing with you. I want to be close to you, but I am afraid of your scorching intensity, afraid that I'll be found out.  
  
Just how does one lie to one's own mirror?!  
  
You glare at me now, demanding to know why I wasn't playing well. Don't you know? It's because I want to see you angry! How else can I ever be near you otherwise? I push you away, my own temper starting to rise as well. Arguments are exciting for me. Especially those with you.  
  
Then I say it. "Because I hate you, Touya Akira, you cold bastard!" It just flowed from my mouth, a sharp retort to something I didn't even hear. I snap my mouth shut. But I see the shock spreading on your numb face. Your mouth opens in horror, then clamps shut with a jerk. I've hit the mark.  
  
And I've gone over. You sweep your hand over the board carelessly, letting the stones cascade over the edge of the table in a stunning monochrome waterfall. You refuse to look at me, eyes adverted as you shove your chair in with a slam.  
  
I stare on in horror, in an unbreakable trance as you pick up your coat. This isn't right, this isn't right! No, I'm the one supposed to leave abruptly, the one who is rude and impertinent and uncaring. The one who leaves by slamming is chair, grabbing his bag and leaving you to clear the stones.  
  
This is all wrong. Now you're grabbing your bag roughly from Ichikawa, practically snatching it as you turn on your heels and stride out of the door. I see hurt on your face, anger and a deep sadness that flickers uncertainly before dissolving to a blank mask.  
  
I can see the hurt, the sadness, the pain as the emotions fight to be surfaced. You're already out of the door, running towards home. A sense of pain pervades me, and the lingering emptiness that I feel when you are not around threatens to return in full flood. I unconsciously place my hand to soothe the throbbing ache in my heart.  
  
I get down on my knees, trembling hands reaching out it pick up the stones scattered on the floor. The harsh light glints off them, each one a flawless pearl. My hands shake as they gather the stones from the ground to replace them in the containers. The stones flow from my hands with ease, tumbling into the wooden containers. I no longer care anymore, black with white, white with black. When one overflows, I gather the scattered stones to place them in the other container.  
  
A sudden sound startles me. I look up, realizing that I just slammed the lid of the container down more harshly than I intended. I take my bag from the counter, ignoring the worried glance from Ichikawa. I stare at the stones that still lie on the board, ignoring the sourness in my throat.  
  
I take my leave.  
  
The sakura blossoms drift past, a blizzard of pink hues that blinds me. I stand in the middle of it, feeling the chilly air cut through my jacket to render me freezing. I tumble down to my knees, body wracked with sobs as the flowers whirl uncaringly past. I'm blinded and lost. Tears fall, hitting the ground as shattered droplets.  
  
Because I know, because I know.  
  
You leave for China tomorrow.  
  
The rivulets of tears down my cheeks flow, in time never-ending.  
  
::Owari::  
  
Thanks for sticking all the way through! (You actually did?) Please review! :) 


	2. The Fallen Dusk

Disclaimer: Same as always, I don't own Hikaru no Go, never had and never will.  
  
Author's notes:  
  
Again, any mistakes are due to my own carelessness as this never for past my beta-reader, Ianthem, so it's none of his fault. It's all mine, all mine! *laughs maniacally*  
  
Yay! Second part out, although I stated that the first one was the end, mainly because I couldn't bear to leave them like that. Blame me for being a softie. This one's from Akira's point of view (yes, the last one was from Hikaru's), so I hope O didn't confuse anyone.Umm, I read this again after writing it, and then realised that this ending wasn't exactly any a "happy" ending, but I like its ambiguousness. ^.^  
  
And, I just realised that I've never been to Japanese airport before to the situation is completely a figment of my imagination. If anyone knows anout how a real airport is ike, please tell me and I'll fix it. Thank you!:)  
  
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To Know Nothing: Chapter 2  
  
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*~* The Fallen Dusk *~*  
  
"Kuso!" I curse silently, the second hand continuing its pilgrimage, a luminous arrow in the night.  
  
I lie back, limp against the armchair in the airport, feeling the chilly embrace of the air cut though my shirt. I'm wearing it now, the turtle neck sweater that you bought for my birthday. Even now, I regret wearing it. I detest it, its design jarring to my eye. All because you bought it.  
  
There's no reason for me to hate it; the material is smooth, the fitting perfect. I always wondered how you managed to find something so wonderfully flawless that I fell in love with it the moment you handed it to me. I swore I'd only wear it to something special, to commemorate some special event with you.  
  
Little was I to know that the day I wore it for you was the last day of our friendship. I loved that sweater, and now I hate it. Once I arrive in China, I'll tear that sweater off and burn it, and feel oddly happy as the wine-red flames lap it hungrily up. I don't even know why I wore it today. But I still love that sweater.  
  
It is a midnight ebony, patterned with emerald green and burnt amber diamonds. You told me the black signified my dark side, the vicious and fierce side of me that unrelentingly strove to win. You said it was the bottomless pit of my soul, that place where I secreted my deepest feelings to achieve the cold refined mask that I perpetually had on.  
  
You told me the diamonds were the sparkling side of me, a stark contrast to the hidden abyss of feelings that I concealed. They were the side of me that sparkled, the one that lent my eyes the fiery lustre. You told me the green diamonds showed the jade of my iris, the clarity and purity of my soul.  
  
I dismissed all that with a light laugh, shaking my head as a rare smile spread across my face. But you never explained the burnt amber diamonds. And I never asked either.  
  
I grip my luggage with a deathly grip, knuckles turning ashen white as the pain intensifies. This afternoon comes flooding back, its bitterness leaving an acerbic aftertaste that refuses to dissolve. It lingers in my tongue, a painful scar that does not heal. Even my numbness cannot disguise its searing sting.  
  
It will stay, a throbbing pain that even a foreign land will not soothe. That nothing can relieve me of.  
  
I recall the way you said those words, the way you seemed to enunciate its every syllable. You didn't care much, did you? You're always accompanied by friends, swamped with attention that I'd be luck even to receive once. Do I even mean anything to you?  
  
You're surrounded by a whirlwind of supporters, fans, acquaintances. You stand in the eye, charismatic, obliging and charming. Everyone clamours for your attention, for a chance to meet you. Even I've fallen for that beautiful smile of yours.  
  
Even, Touya Akira, the cold bastard. Why else would I spend all my free time with you? Why else would I fly into a violent rage when you were late? You're the only one that I really care about, the only one whom I reveal my true self too. The only one I deem worthy of seeing beyond my carefully sculpted mask.  
  
You think you can read me. But what you fail to see is that I chase after you, not the other way round. I spend my time chasing you, fervently pursuing you to get you to notice me amongst your countless other companions. I want you to see me, as a rival, and also as a friend. And perhaps, something even more.  
  
Although.. When you think I'm not looking, I catch a flicker of reciprocation, just a silver of recognition from you. It's just that momentary flash that spurns me to bother getting angry with you. To make you see that I care about you, and that I am nothing under those piercing eyes.  
  
Your eyes fascinate me, causing me get lost in their glittering depths, mersmerised by their haunted beauty. The emerald ones a mirror to my own, their steady gaze like the untouched surface of an enchanted pool. Your eyes seem amethyst from a certain angle, their colour deep and rich; hiding in their murky depths untold secrets that I will never again see.  
  
Because you are gone. You appeared in my life, like a streak of lightning that jolted me from my complacent dream. You raced me, feet pounding in hot pursuit as you rose quickly through the ranks. But I rose even faster, Now, I you vanish before my eyes, a whisper of smoke lingering in your wake. You've left me, cold and deserted on the road alone. Have you surpassed me, or have you just fallen behind?  
  
I gaze up, unconsciously hugging myself for warmth as the wind seems to whip past, leaving an icy blast that hits me in full force. The other passengers waiting for the delayed flight are muted and silent as the clock reads two in the morning. No one sees anyone else, they live in their own world, a surreal bubble of silence that no one disturbs. I too should fall asleep, and let the chill and fatigue envelop me as I drift off, oblivious into an unending void.  
  
*~*  
  
Someone is helping me into a warm jacket, the person's fingers now working on the zip as he pulls it up. I feel the soothing warmth, the heat that washes over my numb limbs. Now the person is gently massaging and holding my hands, trying to work the warm back to the frozen digits. I murmur indistinctly, breathing a quiet "Thank you," as I open my eyes.  
  
The person is just a dark blur, a shadowed figure kneeling before me as he seems intent on his task. I gaze at him through my half-closed lids, brain fighting to register the familiar face. "Touya, you're awake," The person before me smiles softly, his eyes lighting up as recognition dawns on me.  
  
This is Shindou. Shindou Hikaru. I am startled, jerked awake and shocked. I brush the strands of hair covering my face, running my fingers through to try and get some semblance of normality. Shindou, he was here to see me off.  
  
"But why?" I ask, hesitantly, afraid that I'll be hurt again, afraid that he would drive me away. I resist the urge to chase him away, shout at the top of my lungs and curse him to the deepest pit of hell: it's too early in the morning for that, and I also feel strangely comforted to see him. After all I am leaving. What he does now doesn't matter anymore; I no longer feel anything for him.  
  
I see his features soften, and my defenses are let down immediately. I feel more vulnerable now, caught like this early in the morning, and unprepared to see him. He turns his eyes directly at me, his eyes molten amber with amethyst flecks, framed by his long lashes.  
  
His eyes, they seem to stand out in the dim room, glowing and iridescent. I turn away from them, frightened by their intensity and strength, awed by their passion and luminosity.  
  
He speaks now, gripping my hand tighter as he fights for words to say. He seems at a loss, panic spreading across his features. I can feel the tension building, his grip on my hand getting tighter and tighter by the second. "It's alright, I understand," I reply, willing the strained atmosphere to go away, praying that he never meant the words that came out of his mouth.  
  
Once uttered, some words can never be taken back. My heart freezes, as I turn around with an imperious expression on my face, to face him. He doesn't falter under my harsh gaze, but instead flashes one pf those irresistible smiles that I've fallen for countless of times, like when he wanted me to forgive him for missing a meeting, or when he wanted me to treat him to lunch.  
  
He knows me too well, he knows that I cannot stay really angry at him for long. I give up and smile back, genuinely glad of his presence. He stands up and nudges me to the side of the chair, half perching on the arm, half resting on the seat. Staring at me, he smiles amusedly at my rumpled countenance.  
  
I glare back, challenging him to make a comment, as his light laughter shatters the silence of the room as a light tinkle floating past my ears. I relax my frown. With him, it's easier to laugh than to smile, and I can't help but do so.  
  
We lie contented, relishing each other's company as neither wants to break the silence. My mind wanders off, staring at his face, and most of all, those enchanting eyes. They captivate me, drawing me into their irresistible beauty and locking me into their mysterious embrace.  
  
Then it hits me. Amber. Shindou's eyes are brilliant amber. The amber on the jacket, it makes sense now. Shindou's eyes are also emerald green. I never realised it before. When I gaze for a long time into those eyes, I am reflected in their depths, I feel my strength intensified a hundredfold with their power, as if we shared the same skill and energy.  
  
The announcement is booming over the system now, that my plane has arrived. I disentangle myself from Shindou, not even realizing that he had fallen asleep in the chair. I brush his hair back a little shifting him into the most comfortable position before I leave.  
  
I gather up my luggage, preparing to go. As I cross the door, I turn to look through the glass on his limp figure splayed on the chair, giving him a final smile as I go. He sits up, flashing me a victory sign as he waves back. He smiles again, this time it's tinged with a light sadness that threatens to surface.  
  
Then he waves me to leave, that it is time to go. I give a last wave, my footsteps echoing down the long hallway, the ghostly memory of his smile etched in my mind.  
  
The journey will be short, and the first person I'll meet when I return, is of course, Shindou. My steps grow lighter at the thought, and as I hug the jacket with a number "5"around me, I leave behind one of the most precious things in my life. One may almost see the sakura blossoms outside, their petals drifting by, swirling exquisitely around the one I left behind. ::Owari::  
  
Author's note (again): I sort of realised that the two chapters were written in different styles. I meant them to be the same, although I just couldn't get it right, plus the fact that they're meant to be different charcters anyway.  
  
Just curious, do you like Shindou's style, or Touya's style better? :) 


	3. The Gleam of Truth

Disclaimer: Same as always, I don't own Hikaru no Go, never had and never will.  
  
Author's notes:  
  
Thanks a lot to all the reviewers!!! All your comments are treasured and appreciated! All of you are so sweet ^.^ This one's written from Akira's POV again. I just want to try that out and see the results (which are NOT satisfactory).  
  
Just to explain the last chapter, which confused everyone. Sorry! Well, Akira was cold waiting for his delayed flight. Hikaru came in, tried to warm him up, and gave him his jacket so that Akira wouldn't freeze. Yes, sorry if it was very unclear.__ Literature tests are hard.  
  
And yeah, this fic is shounen-ai, so please if this isn't your kind of thing don't read it. Sorry, I didn't mean for it to go so slashy in the end. Both characters are rather OOC, hope you can stand them. I'll work on it, I promise!  
  
Thanks again to all reviews :)  
  
Please review! :) Flames are welcome; they help me improve, so enjoy the story!  
  
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To Know Nothing: Chapter 3  
  
*~* Gleam of Truth *~*  
  
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The frosted glass panels slide quietly apart, the low hissing sound strangely pleasant. I step through, hit by the blast of chilly air rushing through. I walk out, pausing at the entrance of the airport, searching for the familiar face among the sea of strangers.  
  
I clutch the jacket around myself, pulling the zipper even higher as the cutting wind whips by. It contrasts oddly with my dress shirt, tie, and pants, adding to my formal ensemble a dash of colour. My jacket lies folded neatly on my arm, unworn and untouched for the entire journey. I wait at the steps, a solitary figure amongst the busy throng brushing past me. The landscape is ever changing, the busy Tokyo that I have always known, and from whom I have always taken refuge from in Go. The distant figures hunched and hurrying by, their jerky movements unfolding before my eyes like an old movie, painting with their movements upon the background like an artist on his canvas.  
  
A myriad of tones, a kaleidoscope of shades, a whirlwind with me standing silently in its eye. With me silently waiting, body quivering with expectation and fainting from exhaustion.  
  
"Touya! Touya! Over here! Sheesh, are you deaf or something?" I spin round quickly, eyes scanning the crowd for the source of the voice. Perhaps I'm hearing things? The trip was so tiring, so draining that I can hardly pull myself together anymore, limp from the long nights and early mornings, exhausted from the endless requests.  
  
I should call a cab now, get home and slip into blissful oblivion, lost in a dreamland of my own creation. I walk down the steps like a mechanically, each step preceding another, careful to avoid falling over.  
  
A hand brushes mine, and I shrug it off, mumbling an apology as I walk towards the taxi stand. Now the hands has forcefully grabbed mine, with a tug spinning me round to face its owner. I don't resist, I don't pull back; I'm too tired. I look into the person's eyes, meaning to tell the person off, meaning to tell he person to stop, because I'm too tired to fight, too tired to think, too tired to start making apologies for something I didn't even do. So I keep my polite demeanour, bow slightly and apologise for being to careless as to bump into the person.  
  
Then it hits me. The fiery passion of the eyes stings me, and the glittering emeralds sparkle as they bore through my soul. I'm stunned, shocked by their intensity, momentarily rendered immobile as the dazzling orbs seem to shimmer in the glowing dusk.  
  
"Shindou," I say, a whisper torn from my throat. He smiles softly at me, the edges of his eyes crinkling up as always, accentuating their long, dark lashes. The evening sun floods the both of us in its golden light, the rays seeping into every crevice.  
  
We are both bathed in this saffron glow, the light reflecting of our hair and eyes, accentuating every expression on our features. I can see Shindou's eyes now, emerald flecked with gold, resplendent and vibrant.  
  
Shindou smiles again, his lips upturned and his eyes laughing. He takes the luggage from my hands, relieving the ache that I never felt was there. I flex my fingers gingerly, working away the tension. I see Shindou looking up now, his lithe arms unconsciously around his body as the freezing wind billows unrelentlessly. I take the coat from my arm, draping it around his shoulders, hoping that it will provide some comfort from the biting wind. Shindou turns round, and softly mouths a thank you, unwilling to break the peaceful silence between us. The wraps the coat around him, working the buttons through the holes. The coat fits him perfectly. It hangs on his figure elegantly, its sombre colour clashing with his bleached jeans. I take a look, and then laugh softly, my voice tinkling through the air, rising quietly above the muffled din of the crowd. Shindou relaxes too, undoing the top few buttons of his coat to reveal a shirt with a number "5" emblazoned on it. We stand in the queue, crammed side by side, almost touching, as the crowd swells around us.  
  
Shindou is tapping his food impatiently now, and I idly wondering it the queue will ever diminish enough for us to hail a taxi. It's become more oppressive now, with the both of us stifled by the hordes of people pushing by. I feel like faint, the air oppressive as the heat builds around us. It seems as though we're a rock is the middle of a gushing stream, the waters surging violently pass while we remain unmoving, just staring at each other.  
  
"Let's go. I'll walk you home," Shindou says as he steps out into the waters, pulling me along, as we make our way out to the sidewalk. I stumble along, legs rebellious and stiff from standing still from too long. I clutch onto his shoulder for support, feeling the warmth radiating through the material of the coat. The wind is tousling his hair, brushing past his cheeks, leaving in its wake a rosy glow. The gale toys with his hair, letting the soft strands waft behind him in a halo.  
  
The clouds lie as ravelled white silken strands woven across the hollowed azure sky, their edges catching the light as a golden smudge. The winter sky is simply beautiful, its pearly nacre streaked with bottle green. A hazy amethyst spreads across, its colour seeping slowly through, burnt amber and turquoise stain the sky, dousing the sky in their delicate colour.  
  
The branches of the cherry blossoms are tremulous in the wind, as if scarcely able to bear the weight of a bloom so exquisite. My father once told me, as we stood in the midst of the swirling blizzard, that the cherry blossom reached the peak of its beauty in the coldest winter. It was tempered by the biting blizzard, forged out of the harsh winds, to the epitome of beauty that withstood the ravages of time.  
  
They danced past now, flitting past us, coyly tangling my hair as their petals fell. Their tight buds unfurled, the cascade of cerise enveloping us in its tight embrace. Shinou's eyes are on me now, their emerald blazing through the pink, their intensity both frightening and fascinating.  
  
I grasp hold of him, whispering violently into his ear. "You'll always be my rival." It comes as a statement, a confession of the truth that I held for so long. I see him smile yet again, his eyes flashing with pleasure. He turns around to face me fully, the luggage dropped and forgotten, lying on the bed of petals lining the snow. "And you'll be mine forever,"  
  
But this time, we both know that he's referring to something else.  
  
The whirlwind of cherry blossoms gathers speed, spinning dizzily past, whirling found us, rising to a shrill crescendo as the sun plunges downwards into the sea, its flame extinguished.  
  
::Owari::  
  
Thanks for sticking all the way through! Sorry, HikariSpirit, I'm just terrible at third person POV, so hence Touya's POV again. And I don't have the stamina for writing long stories. Gomen, gomen. Thanks Yui-mag and Ye Shiya for their support in the writing of the story. All other reviewers, thanks a lot! 


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